


Charmed 106: Yuletide Carol

by Metal_Ox137



Series: Charmed AU1 [6]
Category: Charmed (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-08 01:39:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4285746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metal_Ox137/pseuds/Metal_Ox137
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas with the Halliwells.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charmed 106: Yuletide Carol

It was an unusually clear and mild late December day in San Francisco, and Rex Buckland was looking around his office, surveying the space almost wistfully as the pale morning light flooded in from the windows overlooking the bay. He shook his head in self-disapproval.  
"Ah, Rex, old sod, you're getting soft in your old age," he sighed aloud. "Signing over your business to the Charmed Ones. Hannah was right. You're no longer fit to be a demon. Even if you still were one."  
He returned to his desk, where a small trifold envelope glared at him almost accusingly. He didn't need to read its contents. Inside, he knew, was his ticket to London, a flight leaving Christmas Eve morning, one-way. Any return to San Francisco in the immediate future was not yet planned.  
Although he disliked to admit it, the thought gave Buckland a thrill - leaving behind everything he'd worked on for decades and starting over completely from scratch in a country he'd not lived in for centuries. A prospect for a much younger person, he decided ruefully. Or a much less sane one.  
Sighing, he looked over at the sideboard across the room. A cup of coffee might be nice. Something about the familiarity of sipping the bitter brew might bring some comfort.  
Buckland started to get out of his chair, but then, to his bemusement, found himself immediately standing in front of the sideboard.  
Disoriented, he turned. The desk was behind him.  
Bewildered, he turned again, staring stupidly at the sideboard as if not quite sure it was really there. He tapped experimentally on its surface. The muted thunk assured him the sideboard was only too real.  
Staring back at his desk again, Buckland frowned, and then, he found himself seated there again.  
With a cry of alarm, he leaped up from his seat.  
Running his hand through his hair as displacement activity, he pondered what had just happened. A happy epiphany crossed his mind, and, not quite daring to believe, stared at the sideboard again, closed his eyes and wished himself there.  
And once again, he stood at the sideboard.  
"Oh, my word," he murmured aloud.  
Chuckling, still not quite believing, he closed his eyes, opened them, and was back at the desk again.  
Laughing out loud, Buckland's smile turned to a look of calculation. He closed his eyes again and wished himself back to the place he longed most to be.  
For a moment, he vanished from sight.  
Abruptly, he found himself sprawled against the carpet, head ringing. He had smacked head-first into... something... and had been violently thrown back into his office.  
Buckland's secretary Victoria peeked hesitantly around the door.  
"Mr. Buckland? Is anything the matter?" she asked. "I heard a horrible crash."  
Seeing Buckland sprawled awkwardly on the floor, she dared to enter the office. "Are you all right, sir?" she asked with concern.  
Buckland propped himself up on one elbow. His nose smarted terribly. He brushed his hand against it and winced with pain. His palm came away with a smear of blood.  
"I'm fine, Victoria, really," he assured his secretary. "Bloody stupid, I'm just clumsy, I tripped and fell, that's all."  
With a grunt, he sat up. Victoria knelt beside him and offered him a tissue.  
"Thank you," he said gratefully. "I must have smacked myself pretty hard."  
"Let me take you to emergency," Victoria offered, somewhat alarmed. "You're bleeding quite a bit."  
Buckland shook his head. "I assure you, I'm fine, Victoria, really. Blood vessels run very close to the surface of the skin. Any cut on the face always looks like a mortal wound. If you wouldn't mind, though, go to the first aid kit, bring me some bandages, please?"  
"Right away, sir." Victoria pelted away, clearly thinking that more than a few adhesive strips were needed.  
Buckland patted his nose dubiously. There was already a large knot of swelling across the bridge of his nose.  
"Ow," Buckland muttered, as much from embarrassment as from pain.

* * * 

On the eve of the eve of Christmas, Prudence Trudeau and her sister, Phoebe Halliwell, were hard at work decorating Prue's modest living room for the holidays. A tiny tree, barely four feet tall, stood in one corner, and Phoebe was busy hanging garlands around its meager branches. Prue was setting out holly-wreathed candle holders and mistletoe for the front door.  
"Come on, Prue, you have to let me get you something for Christmas," Phoebe was imploring her older sister. "A pet rock, a pencil box, something. I don't want you to go without having any presents to open on Christmas Day."  
Dark-haired Prue gave her sister a tender smile. "I told you, Phoebe, you and Paige are my gifts this year. No one has any money as it is, and I don't want you spending what little you have just to make sure I have a box to open. Having my sisters to share Christmas Day with me is the only present I want."  
"I know, but... I just feel like you should have something to open, that's all."  
"I appreciate the thought, Phoebe. Really, I do. But just to spend the day with you and Paige and Darryl... that's a gift I never even dared hope for." She stopped arranging the holly for a moment. "Two months ago, Christmas was going to be just me and Darryl and Patience, and Darryl and I were going to exchange the engagement rings we'd already picked out for each other. Not a bad Christmas, but that's all it was going to be. But now..." Prue bit her lip. "Now, I have family to share the day with. I wish there was some way I could show you what joy that gives me."  
Phoebe regarded her older sister for a moment.  
"You really miss them," she said quietly. "Your Piper and Phoebe."  
Prue nodded, and sighed heavily. "Yeah. I do," she admitted, and then she smiled. "But now, I have you and Paige. I couldn't ask for more blessing than that."  
"Paige is overwhelmed by her popularity this year," Phoebe grinned.  
"Oh? How's that?"  
"Well, each of the last two years, she's just gone down to Carmel to see her foster parents on Christmas Day. This year, she gets to spend Christmas Eve morning with Henry's folks, Christmas Eve at the Matthews', and then she'll drive up here with Henry on Christmas Day to be with us. She says it makes her feel like a rock star. Everybody wants her."  
"This is the first time her parents are meeting Henry?"  
"Yup, and boy, is she nervous about it." Phoebe grinned at the thought. "But, you know what? When it came to choosing who to be with on the day itself, she chose us. The sisters she barely knows."  
"I've been thinking about that," Prue said. "Come on, let's take a break. I want to show you something."  
They went into the kitchen, where Prue poured two cups of coffee, and liberally sweetened them with cream, sugar and cinnamon. Armed with their libations, they returned to the living room and settled together on the couch.  
Prue pulled an old photo album out of the drawer in the long coffee table.  
"I haven't gone through these in a long time," she admitted.  
"Family photos?" Phoebe was delighted.  
"Not many. There were only a handful of photos I had at my office. And they're all that remains, after Gram's house was destroyed." She sighed heavily.  
"I've been meaning to ask you about that," Phoebe said. "Did you... get into any kind of trouble over that? Causing a great big crater in a suburb of San Francisco?"  
Prue shook her head. "As you saw, Phoebe, that pit was so deep the inspectors decided that nothing on anyone's property, or any utilities by the city, could possibly have caused it. Since they weren't really looking for anything magical as the cause, they just declared it a freak sinkhole. They spent months afterwards checking the integrity of the surrounding area."  
"So, no lawsuits, then."  
"Not that I had any money then," Prue said ruefully. "I think the worry was that I would be the one to sue the city or the county. As far as anyone knew, I lost my home to a freak accident. I had insurance, but it simply wasn't enough to buy another home anywhere near the bay area. I was lucky just to be able to set myself up in an apartment. Okay, enough talk about Gram's house. How about having a look at your alternate life?"  
Phoebe wriggled with such joyful anticipation that Prue had to smile. "Hmm. I was going to share some family history with Paige on Christmas Day. Maybe I should make this album your Christmas gift instead," she teased.  
"No, no, Prue, you got it out, I have to see," Phoebe pleaded.  
"All right," Prue laughed.  
She opened the album to the first page.  
"Oh, my God, that's us at 'Quake'," breathed Phoebe. "Isn't it?"  
Prue held up the photo for her, and Phoebe took it as if it were delicate crystal.  
"Yup. That's the night after Piper got promoted to general manager."  
"I remember," Phoebe nodded. "Or, at least, I remember my version of that night. God, how happy she looks!" She shared at the photo, looking at each of the smiling young women staring back at her, and her eyes began to tear.  
Prue smiled sadly. "You miss your sisters, too, don't you?"  
Phoebe drew in a breath. "I do," she admitted. "But I'm glad I'm here, to be with you and Paige. I really think I'm meant to be here." She continued to stare at Piper's image in the picture. "God, Prue, look how beautiful she is," she breathed. "Why didn't we ever tell her that? Why didn't we tell her that every day?"  
Prue hugged her sister tightly and they looked at the picture together.  
"This is the only picture I have of her," Prue said sadly.  
"Really?" Phoebe was dismayed.  
"The only one. I don't even have any photos from her wedding day."  
Phoebe let out a mournful sigh. "It's a great picture of her. It's a great picture of... all of us," she faltered, suddenly remembering she was not the person in the photograph. She stared at her own image for a moment. "It's really weird, isn't it? I mean, I look exactly like your Phoebe."  
"Two peas in a pod," Prue agreed.  
"It's just so weird to look at her and know it isn't me," Phoebe marveled.  
"No, you look exactly like her, but you don't act anything like her," Prue allowed.  
"Really? She was that... different?" Phoebe studied her doppelgänger in the photo. "She doesn't look that different from me."  
"Trust me, Phoebe, you two are nothing alike. And I'm just so delighted to have you, my sweet and loving Phoebe."  
"And relieved?" Phoebe asked.  
"That too, if I'm going to be honest," Prue admitted.  
"Prue, seriously, I think you need to leave this photo out, have it framed. It's priceless."  
Prue had to take a moment to wipe away a tear. Phoebe waited for a moment, then raised her coffee cup. "To Piper," she toasted.  
"To Piper," Prue agreed tearfully. They clinked their coffee cups and each took a long swig.  
"Okay, this next one you're going to love," Prue announced, turning the page.  
Phoebe gasped. "Mom."  
"So our moms do look like," Prue noted her sister's reaction. "I was kind of wondering."  
Phoebe steepled her hands in front of her face, tears welling in her eyes.  
"Did your mom die when you were very young?" Prue asked quietly.  
"I was only three," Phoebe could barely manage to get the words out.  
"Same age then," Prue noted sadly, and pulled her sister into another tight hug. Phoebe sighed deeply, and a huge tear rolled down one cheek. Impulsively, Prue kissed her younger sister on the forehead.  
When the intensity of her emotion had passed, Phoebe said carefully, "You know, I think we should save the rest of these. For Christmas Day. And share them, together, with Paige."  
Prue smiled sadly at Phoebe. "I think that's a very good idea," she agreed.  
They sat in companionable silence for a time, sipping coffee.  
"We should finish decorating," Prue said after a time.  
"Yeah, we should," Phoebe agreed, but neither of them made any move to get up off the couch.  
Phoebe smiled. "Paige is gonna be blown away, that you emptied out your wine rack just for her."  
Prue shrugged. "It's really not that big a deal. In fact, the only time I went on any sort of 'binge' is when you first arrived. For a couple of weeks there, we had an almost two-bottle-a-night habit."  
Phoebe winced. "Just as well we're giving that up, huh?"  
"No kidding. Anyway, I'll take the remaining bottles over to Buckland's right after the holiday."  
Phoebe frowned. "To the office? Couldn't you donate them to charity, or something?"  
"Honestly, I've never tried to donate alcohol at the food bank," Prue mused. "My guess is, they'd rather not have it, as most of the people they serve already have substance abuse issues of one kind or another."  
"That's true," Phoebe admitted. "But why to the office?"  
"We entertain a lot of clients - actually, Rex does most of the entertaining. He likes to schmooze with the wealthy. He even has a proper wine cellar in the basement of the building, to store some vintages that will impress our richer clients."  
"No kidding."  
"Yeah, that's one part of the job I'm not going to like so much," Prue admitted. "Rex did all the smooth talking with the obnoxious clients, and I did all the research work to make sure we got the best deals set up. We make a good team."  
"You sound like you're going to miss him," Phoebe observed, clearly puzzled by Prue's attitude.  
Prue shrugged. "Rex has his faults, so do I," she said simply. "But we've worked well together. And frankly, he's one of the few people I could talk to about art, history or magic, who really understood what I was talking about. Most people either don't know, don't care, or just think I'm crazy. Yeah. I'll miss him. Probably more than I'll tell him," she grinned.  
"So, is Darryl okay with you establishing prohibition in the Trudeau household, to show solidarity with your sister?"  
"He says he'll miss his beer," Prue admitted. "But he also says he knows how hard it is for recovering alcoholics to stay level, and he's willing to go without. For my sake, not so much hers." She grinned. "Besides, he says the fewer beers he has, the less exercise he needs to keep his weight down."  
Phoebe laughed. "You know, he really is a sweet guy," she mused. "You're really lucky to have him."  
"I am lucky," Prue said with all seriousness. "I'm a single mom in my early thirties. The chances of me finding any guy wanting to nest with me, let alone a good one, were pretty slim."  
"Prue, no way that's true," Phoebe remonstrated gently. "You look amazing. Hell. I think you look better now as a mom in your thirties than you ever did as a single woman in your twenties."  
"Thanks for the compliment," Prue smiled. "True or not. But I do miss being a little... sleeker. There's a good reason I gave you most of my old skin-tight outfits. You can still get away with wearing them."  
Before Phoebe could argue further, she got up off the couch. "Come on," she sighed. "Darryl and Patience will be back any minute from the store. I want to get the mistletoe hung before they get here."  
"Ha!" Phoebe laughed. "Like you ever needed that excuse with Darryl."  
"Hey, it's the holidays," Prue pointed out. "You never know what cute guy might walk through that door. Little Miss Single and Available."  
Grinning, Phoebe took the coffee cups back to the kitchen, and Prue put the stepladder next to the door, swinging the door open to make it easier to hang the supporting peg for the decorations. Someone was already at the door, ready to knock.  
"Rex!" Prue gasped in surprise.  
Rex Buckland stood in the hallway, a rueful smile on his face and a large bandage across his nose. There were deep dark circled bruises under his eyes.  
"Rex, what are you doing here?" Prue asked. "I thought were getting ready to leave town. And what on earth happened to you?"  
"Ah... long story," Buckland said awkwardly. "Might I come in for a moment?"  
"Yes, yes, of course," Prue pulled the stepladder aside. "Come in, sit down."  
"Thank you." He handed a small box to Prue, in bright red wrapping paper and tied up with a delicate ribbon. "A good guest never arrives empty-handed," he declared. "And although for obvious reasons I don't celebrate the holiday, Happy Christmas, Prue. And please don't ask where or how I came by this, you really don't want to know."  
"Hey, Prue, do we have -" Phoebe came out of the kitchen and stopped herself. "Oh. Hello," she said in greeting to Buckland. "Sorry, I thought that was Darryl coming in."  
"By the Pit," Buckland gasped.  
Phoebe drew back, bemused. "Uh... right," she said, suddenly wondering if introductions were in order after all.  
"Phoebe, this is my boss, Rex Buckland. Rex, this is my sister Phoebe. My other sister Phoebe," Prue added, placing careful emphasis on the word "other".  
"Of course," Buckland nodded, smiling. "Please, do forgive me, my dear. I realize that in actual fact you and I have never met. Rex Buckland. Delighted to meet you." He held out his hand, and after a moment's hesitation, Phoebe shook it.  
"Phoebe Halliwell," she identified herself. "Hi."  
"Rex, what are you doing here?" Prue asked. "I thought you had all these preparations to make before leaving the auction house."  
"I still do," Buckland nodded, and then he hesitated for a moment. "Prue... what would you say if I told you that I arrived at your residence by... uh, blinking?"  
Prue blanched. "If that were true, Rex, I'd go straight into the kitchen to get a knife, to cut out your heart."  
"Ah, my dear, it is true. My arrival was entirely by supernatural means. But please - I would really like to request suspending the time-honored tradition of scattering my bloody entrails and setting fire to them."  
"Talk fast," Prue demanded, with an edge to her voice that Phoebe had not heard before.  
"I think... it might be easier if I simply show you. May I?"  
After hesitating a moment, Prue nodded grimly.  
Buckland blinked. And he was no longer there.  
Phoebe started in amazement. "Where did he go?" she asked.  
"I'm right behind you, Miss Halliwell," Buckland explained.  
Phoebe whirled around to see Buckland standing behind him.  
Seeing Prue's reaction, Buckland held up his hands in a gesture of pacification. "Please, Prue, no knives," he pleaded. "There's more to this story. May I sit down?"  
"What more is there to say, Rex? If you're a demon again."  
"Well, I'm not," Buckland protested. "That is to say, not entirely."  
Prue frowned. "I want to trust you, Rex, but..."  
"Truce. Please?" Buckland pleaded. "I would hardly announce the re-acquisition of any demonic powers if I harbored any malice towards you."  
Against her better judgment, Prue relented and nodded.  
Buckland sighed with relief and settled himself on the couch.  
Hoping to defuse the sudden tension in the room, Phoebe suggested, "Uh, coffee, Rex? We just made a pot. Still fresh."  
"Thank you, Phoebe, that would be lovely," Buckland smiled.  
"Cream or sugar?"  
"Just black, please."  
Prue took a seat in the chair opposite the couch. "So, what happened?" she asked.  
Buckland shook his head in bewilderment. "I have no idea what happened," he declared. "I was in my office this morning, just going over some papers before leaving, and thought I might get some coffee from the sideboard. Instead of getting up from desk and walking there, I just... found myself standing in front of the coffee pot."  
He studied Prue's critical reaction. "Yes, I know what you're thinking," he said. "I thought the same. I wasn't really sure what had happened really did happen, you understand. So I made a conscious attempt to return to my desk the same way - and did. Ah. Coffee. Splendid. Thank you, Phoebe."  
"No problem." Phoebe handed him the cup, and Buckland took a sip.  
"Now, as you might imagine, having discovered this ability restored to me, I thought I might attempt to do something that I haven't considered possible for several years. You know that demons have a sort of... sixth sense... about the location of Hell and can just blink themselves there."  
Prue nodded grimly.  
"Well, I still could not sense anything, but I went through the motions - not unlike muscle memory, you understand, trying to blink myself to where I last knew Hell to be, as it were." He patted his bandaged nose gingerly. "And ran up against a proverbial wall."  
Phoebe frowned, not comprehending. "You threw yourself at the wall in your office?"  
"Ah... no."  
"A mystical barrier," Prue said quietly.  
"Quite," Buckland agreed.  
Phoebe's face lit up with understanding. "The dome!" she exclaimed.  
"Yes, well, whatever it is, it's all very solid, and very real," Buckland said grimly. "And, since my body didn't heal instantly, I have to assume I am still human."  
"Which begs the question, what happens to you when you attempt to cross the barrier," Prue said quietly.  
"Indeed. I might find myself a fully powered demon again. Or I might simply cease to exist. To be perfectly frank, I'm not willing to risk the one, only to find the truth of the other."  
Phoebe looked at Prue. "Could the extra magic that leaked in have caused this? Uh... it is okay to tell him that, right?"  
"It's all right, Prue," Buckland cut in hastily. "I may no longer be a demon, but I did still sense that there was more magical energy about than usual. I gather that was your doing?"  
"Actually, Rex, we were trying to stop a magical implosion, that would have made San Francisco the center of a black hole of magic - something that probably would have killed every living creature for hundreds of miles."  
"Indeed." Buckland sipped his coffee. "It would seem the Charmed Ones are back in the business of saving the world on a regular basis."  
"There's some sort of barrier, extending for several miles in every direction, that is holding back magic. We're not sure how far it extends, or how much magical energy is on the other side."  
"Well, it doesn't run off the planet, does it?" Phoebe asked. "I mean, isn't it true there are magical beings alive and well outside of San Francisco?"  
"Not entirely," Buckland said. "Alive, yes. Well, hardly. In North America, the only magical beings who survived the explosion three years ago simply had all their magical elements stripped from them - violently. They became, for all practical purposes, normal human beings. Not that they could pass for normal, you understand."  
"Prue said your girlfriend from London is a fully powered demon."  
"Demoness," Buckland corrected her. "And no, not fully powered. The world over, at least anywhere I've had contact, magical beings still exist, but their power has been diminished significantly. Their ability to function, for good or evil, has been effectively castrated."  
"Ugh." Phoebe made a face.  
"Not so far from the truth," Buckland muttered grimly. "The magical beings on this continent still function, without magic. Cease to function would be a better term," he sighed. "And the rest of the world is on starvation rations, as it were. Beings that used to be majestic demons are now little more than disappropriated miasma, a lingering bad smell in the air."  
"We had to keep the barrier in place," Phoebe objected, thinking Buckland's comment was intended as some sort of criticism. "Otherwise, everyone would have died, probably you too."  
"Oh, I'm sure you acted correctly, of course," Buckland said hastily. "Please don't misunderstand me. As recently as two months ago, I was in London, and returned without ill effect, or restoration of demonic power. So the barrier apparently doesn't prohibit non-magical movement. Anyway, Prue, I wanted to share this information with you. I felt it was important to disclose all that had happened."  
"Thank you," Prue said quietly.  
"For now, I'm still planning to follow our arrangement, as we agreed. My travel plans are still going to take me out of the country for a few months. However, should I find myself a fully powered demon again, I'll return sooner."  
"To kill us?"  
"Never, Prue. Never," Buckland protested with all sincerity. "Even if I regain all my powers, I intend to remain your ally, for as long as you'll allow it."  
"Why would you do that?" Phoebe asked, genuinely curious.  
Buckland looked directly at Prue as he answered Phoebe's question. "Because your sister and I have saved each other's lives, more than once," he said. "And because we make a good team. Besides, Prue," he added, "I must say, quite frankly, most of the mortals of this world, and a fair number of the immortals, are dullards of the first rank. In all honesty, I don't know another person alive who could get equally excited about recovering a lost Titian masterpiece, or dealing with an ancient Egyptian urn with a very real curse upon it." He smiled.  
"I'm still not going to Hell with you, Rex," Prue said evenly. "Neither are my sisters."  
"You say that now," he grinned. "But I meant what I said to you the other day, Prue. I will offer you all manner of enticements. But never again will I attempt to force you. Not that any of it matters at the moment, because if Hell still exists, I can neither sense it, nor reach it."  
"Good," Prue said flatly.  
Buckland got up. "Anyway, I must be off," he said. "A few last minute things to tidy away. And Prue, thank you," he added sincerely. "For not killing me on the spot."  
Prue's stern expression softened into a shy smile. "Thanks for making me feel like I don't need to. I'm not interested in ending you, Rex."  
"That makes two of us, my dear."  
"Say, by any chance, are you going back to the office?"  
"Very probably. Why?"  
"Mind taking a package with you?"  
"Not at all. What is it?"  
Prue hurried into the kitchen, and returned a moment later with a large cardboard box, containing several bottles of wine.  
"What's this?" Buckland asked, taking the box.  
"Something for the wine cellar."  
"You're donating your private stock?"  
"I have my reasons, Rex."  
"I won't pry, my dear. Thank you for the donation." He smiled first at Prue, then at Phoebe. "If I don't see you again before the holidays, Happy Christmas and Happy New Year to you both."  
"Take care, Rex." Prue's voice was unexpectedly tender. "Come back soon."  
"No matter what happens, I shan't be away long," Buckland promised. "There's plenty of interesting work yet to be done. And I'm very much looking forward to meeting your other sister. Farewell."  
With a blink, he was gone.  
"Wow. That's a cool way to get around," Phoebe declared. She noted Prue's downcast expression. "Hey, you okay?"  
"Yeah, I'm fine, Phoebe." Prue smiled ruefully. "You know what, damn him - I really am going to miss him."

* * * 

Christmas Eve was as happy and contented a time as Phoebe could remember in her adult life. Whereas every Christmas in her "home" reality had been problematic at best, this year she felt like she was literally swimming in joy.  
Mostly this had to do with Prue, who was clearly delighted at having family once again. Any grief she'd endured the last three years was wiped away by Phoebe's presence, and Phoebe found herself basking in the warmth of her sister's love, something she seldom experienced with her "other" sisters.  
On Christmas Eve, Phoebe, Prue, Patience and Darryl gathered in the kitchen for mulled cider and to frost sugar cookies. After dinner, they gathered in the living room, and after some coaxing from Prue, Darryl read an abridged version of "A Christmas Carol" to Patience, while the child curled up contentedly in his lap.  
After putting Patience to bed, promising no presents would be unwrapped until after Auntie Paige and Uncle Henry arrived, the adults returned to the living room to simply enjoy each other's company. Phoebe parked herself in her favorite chair, and Prue and Darryl cuddled together on the couch.  
"Do you have family here in San Francisco?" Phoebe asked Darryl.  
He shook his head. "My mom and my brother live in San Antonio. I'm going to go visit them for a week right after New Year's. This year, I wanted to stay home with my wife." He and Prue shared a quick kiss.  
"Have you guys decided on a date yet?"  
"We haven't decided on the actual day, no. But we have agreed to May, probably towards the end of the month."  
"Short engagement," Phoebe grinned. "You guys aren't wasting any time."  
"We've been together over a year," Prue pointed out. "And we're both ready to add one more child to the family. So yeah, the official courtship will be kind of quick. You know I'm going to ask you and Paige to be my bridesmaids."  
Phoebe felt a thrill of pure joy. "I can't wait."  
Prue laughed. "Good thing we aren't, then."  
Prue and Darryl retired early, and Phoebe did some desultory cleaning in the kitchen before retiring to her own room. For a moment, she thought about her other sisters Prue and Piper, how they would be sharing Christmas without her, and even thinking about that was heartbreaking.  
If only there was some way to call them, Phoebe thought to herself, fighting back tears. Even a cell phone, if she had one, couldn't cross realities.  
What about a magical message? Phoebe wondered. Even if she was now in another reality, she was Charmed, wasn't she? Would that be enough to send a message home?  
She mulled over the possibility for a few moments, then excitedly leaped from her bed. She opened her armoire and took out seven candles, a book of matches and a stick of chalk. Drawing a wide circle on the wood paneled floor, she arranged the candles evenly around the circumference and then lit the candles one by one, offering a prayer and incantation with each one. She kept her voice low, so as not to disturb anyone.  
"I light this candle on Christmas Eve, in peace and loving kindness, for the sisters I have lost," she half-murmured, half-sang under her breath. "I light this candle so that the way home can be more easily seen. I light this candle to burn away my sorrow. I light this candle to ease the suffering of my sisters. I light this candle to let my voice be heard. I light this candle in love of my sisters, both near and far. I light this candle for the blessing of the spirits, to carry my message safely across the worlds, to my sisters far away."  
Phoebe settled herself in a Sukhasana pose in the center of her circle and began to concentrate.  
_Prue, Piper, can you hear me?_ she called in her thoughts. _Wherever you are, I am safe and well. Your little sister Phoebe loves and misses you. The only pain I feel is missing you. I love you, I love you, I love you._  
Phoebe felt a slight stirring of wind, a gentle breeze caressing her face, and for a moment, just a moment, she sensed rather than saw two shining lights before her. The radiances dimmed slightly, and within them, Phoebe could make out two faces, two familiar faces, weeping for joy, knowing at last their youngest sister was safe. Phoebe felt her heart breaking.  
"Auntie Phoebe! Auntie Phoebe!"  
With a start, Phoebe found herself laying on her own bed, still in her clothes. Patience was at her bedside.  
"It's Christmas, Auntie Phoebe! It's time to get up!"  
Disoriented, Phoebe propped herself up on one elbow. "Patience, sweetie, what time is it?" she asked.  
"Eight o'clock," Patience answered.  
"At night?" she asked in bewilderment.  
"In the morning! Mommy is making muffins and coffee! Come have breggfirst with us!"  
Phoebe put a hand to her forehead and rubbed it gingerly. "I must have... fallen asleep," she mumbled.  
"Are you okay, Auntie Phoebe?"  
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, sweetheart," Phoebe said, trying to clear her head. "Go on. I'll be with you in a couple of minutes."  
With a bound, Patience left her auntie's bedroom. Bemused, Phoebe sat up and peered over the edge of the bed. The floor was bare. No candles, no chalk circle.  
_I know I lit those candles last night,_ Phoebe thought to herself. _I'm sure I did._  
With a grunt of effort, she pushed herself upright, then went to the armoire, opened it and found her candles and chalk in the bottom drawer, undisturbed.  
"Huh!" Phoebe snorted in vexation.  
Unable to account for what she'd experienced, Phoebe gave up, shrugged her bathrobe over her clothes and padded to the bathroom.  
A few minutes later, she entered the kitchen to find Prue, Darryl and Patience getting the dining table ready for an impromptu breakfast. Prue was pulling muffins from the oven, filled with chunks of fresh apple and laced with cinnamon, crusted with brown sugar. A large bowl filled with scrambled eggs and cheese was already sitting on the table, steaming and piping hot. Darryl was carefully pouring coffee and orange juice, and Patience was running back and forth with plates, napkins and forks.  
"Good morning," Prue greeted her with a radiant smile. "Merry Christmas!"  
"Merry Christmas," Phoebe returned, still feeling slightly out of sorts. But her dysphoria was instantly dispelled when Prue gave her an exuberant hug and a quick kiss on the cheek.  
"I am so happy you are here," Prue whispered in her sister's ear. Then she returned to prizing muffins out of the baking tray.  
The force of Prue's hug was almost painful, but suddenly Phoebe felt great joy washing over her. She was with people she loved, and was loved by them in return. The blessing of Christmas, she thought to herself, then seated herself at the table to share the morning with her family.

* * * 

Paige and Henry arrived at the house shortly after one in the afternoon, making profuse apologies for their tardiness. Prue cared for none of that, and hugged her new sister as tightly as she'd done for Phoebe that morning. The entire family gathered at last, Prue set out the big meal for the day: baked ham, glazed with honey, scalloped potatoes, french cut green beans with almonds, and a light salad made from avocado, grapefruit slices and arugula greens. Pie, cookies and coffee were set out for dessert, then the family gathered in the living room to open presents.  
Patience insisted on giving presents to each of her aunties first, and gave them each a small jeweler's box.  
"Go ahead," Prue grinned at her sisters. "Patience actually picked these out for you, when we went shopping together last week."  
The sisters unwrapped their small packages. Each contained a small necklace of laced silver. Phoebe's necklace had a small crucifix with tiny diamonds, Paige's had an ankh with an inlaid ruby.  
"Oh my God, these are beautiful, you guys," Phoebe breathed, and Paige practically squealed for joy on seeing hers. They each hugged Patience and Prue in turn.  
"And now, we have something for you," Paige grinned at Prue.  
"Oh, come on, I told you guys I didn't want you to buy me anything -"  
"Yeah, yeah," Paige cut her off with a grin. "Pheeble and I went in together on this. It actually cost almost nothing. We had a little something made for you."  
Paige handed her sister a wide, thin box. Prue hefted its weight experimentally. "Too heavy to be a blouse," she decided.  
"Go on," Phoebe grinned.  
Prue tore off the wrapping and lifted the lid. She gasped with astonishment.  
"A spirit board!" she exclaimed. "Where did you find this?"  
"We went back to see Mr. Feng," Phoebe grinned. "You know, our buddy at the occult shop. I know it's not as nice as the one that mom had made for us - "  
Phoebe could get no further, as Prue wrapped her sister in a bear hug, and didn't release her for a full two minutes. When she finally did, her eyes were filled with tears.  
"This is amazing, you guys," she murmured, and then subjected Paige to a similar hug.  
"Phoebe was telling me about some of the things you used to have at your old house," Paige explained, when she could breathe again. "And she kept going on about this spirit board you guys used to have. We both thought, since the Halliwell coven is a going concern again, we ought to have a board handy."  
"Read the inscription," Phoebe urged, and Prue turned the board over.  
"For Prudence Morris, and her daughters and granddaughters, with love from Phoebe and Paige, Christmas 1999."  
Fresh tears filled Prue's eyes.  
"We, uh, also cast a little spell on the board," Phoebe admitted. "Me and Paige. We sort of blessed it."  
"We asked that the board could convey the message of any spirit, as long as the message was sent in loving kindness," Paige added. "No malevolent crank calls from demons for you on this board."  
"I don't know what to say, you guys. This is - amazing. Thank you. It's beautiful."  
"So, did we getcha?" Phoebe grinned.  
"You got me," Prue admitted, laughing delightedly. "Okay, Paige, I have something extra special for you. I showed this to Phoebe the other day, and she suggested it might make a nice gift for you. I think she's right."  
She handed a wide box to Paige. Paige looked expectantly at each of her sisters in turn, then tore off the wrapping. She pulled out a medium-sized picture frame. Paige gasped. "Is... is that..."  
"Paige Matthews, meet your mom, Patricia Halliwell," Prue said quietly.  
Paige stared at the photograph in the frame, her eyes welling with tears. "She's beautiful," she whispered.  
"There are other family photos that Phoebe and I want to share with you today. But this one, we wanted you to have."  
Paige rushed into Prue's arms, weeping openly.  
"Hey," Prue said softly, grinning at her sister. "Gotcha."  
It took a few minutes for Paige to recover herself, and then she hugged each of her sisters tightly.  
Phoebe picked up the present that Rex Buckland had left. "I don't know, Prue, should we call the bomb squad for this one?"  
"Well, with Rex, you never know," Prue grinned. She took the box and regarded it carefully. Then, she gingerly tore the wrapping paper from the box and opened the lid.  
Prue shrieked aloud, and put a hand to her mouth.  
"What is it?" Phoebe asked, alarmed.  
Prue shook her head, blinking back tears. "That asshole," she sighed. "I never know whether to shoot him, or kiss him. Come here, you guys."  
Paige and Phoebe got up and walked over to the couch so they could see. In the box was a hinged frame, made of plated gold, containing two small wedding photographs.  
"Piper and Leo," Phoebe grinned. "And Prue, you with Andy."  
"That's Piper?" Paige asked. "Can I see?"  
Prue handed the box to Paige, grateful to have her hands free to wipe away tears.  
"That's your other sister, Piper," Phoebe explained to Paige, pointing to the picture, "And her husband, Leo. The handsome dude there with Prue is her first husband, Andy."  
"Oh my God, Piper's so beautiful."  
"Yep," Phoebe agreed solemnly.  
Patience had rummaged under the tree and found the two matching boxes for Darryl and her mother. "Here, mommy," she said, handing her one of the boxes.  
"Guys," Darryl said quietly, "Prue and I have already picked these out for each other, but we wanted to open them together, in front of you, to make it official." He grinned. "I would like to present to you, the future Mrs. Darryl Morris."  
"Woo hoo!" Phoebe crowed delightedly.  
Darryl went down on one knee in front of Prue.  
Still wiping away tears, Prue began to laugh helplessly. "You great silly, you've already proposed to me. And I said yes."  
"Well, I'm proposing again," Darryl grinned. "This time, in front of your entire family as witnesses. Prue, will you marry me?"  
"Yes," Prue hugged him tightly. "Yes, I will."  
"Mmm. And now, the surprise you don't know about." Darryl grinned. He fished into his jacket pocket and took out another small box and handed it to Patience.  
"Patience, when I marry your mommy, that also means I want to be your daddy, too. And this ring is for you," he said solemnly. "So that you and I can be father and daughter."  
Patience opened her box and took out a small, delicate band of gold. She shrieked with joy, leaped up into Darryl's arms and hugged him tightly around the neck.  
Paige grinned at Henry. "Wow, that looks pretty awesome," she teased. "Almost makes me want to make you my Mr. Matthews."  
Henry grinned back. "It doesn't work like that."  
"Yeah it does," Paige assured him.  
"Yeah, it does," Darryl seconded, his face almost buried with Prue and Patience both hugging him.  
Everyone laughed.  
Finally it was Patience's turn to tear through her presents, and tear through them she did, shrieking with delight at each new discovery. Prue had coordinated with her sisters to pick out certain dolls for Patience, along with the appropriate accessories, and for a brief time, the living room was a cacophony of flying ribbons and shredded paper.  
Patience's pent-up energy was close to exploding, so once all the gifts and their detritus were sorted away, Phoebe and Paige offered to take their niece to the park, and let her burn off some of her holiday exuberance on the swings and slides before dark.  
As the girls shrugged into their coats, Paige made an exasperated shrug at Henry.  
"Come on, Mr. Matthews, you're coming too."  
"I am?"  
Paige rolled her eyes. "Boys," she groaned. "You draw the picture, you connect the dots, you color everything in, and you still have to explain everything to them. Yes, you're coming! Coat! Now!"  
Once outside, Patience asked for a piggyback ride from her Uncle Henry, and he obliged her, setting the small girl on his shoulders, and carefully balancing her as they walked up the street. As Patience squealed with delight, Paige and Phoebe walked a few paces behind.  
"So, you think Prue and Darryl are having a quickie?" Paige grinned at her sister.  
"I sure hope so," Phoebe laughed. "I'm just happy to see her happy."  
"Yeah, but it's got to be weird, you know? I mean, she's your sister, but she's not."  
"Each of us could say the same thing about the other two," Phoebe pointed out.  
"Yeah, but it's different for you guys," Paige objected. "You both have a different version of each other to remember."  
"That's kind of how we treated each other at first," Phoebe admitted. "But... she's my Prue," she said, placing careful emphasis on the word "my". "Maybe I really have known her only a couple of months, and there are a couple of ways she's nothing like my other sister. Okay, lots of ways," Phoebe admitted. "But I just look at her and feel... she's my family," she said helplessly, not quite knowing how to explain herself. "I could never leave her. Or Patience. Or you. I really feel like I've come home, rather than left it."  
"That's pretty cool," Paige nodded thoughtfully. "I feel the same about you," she confided shyly.  
"Thanks," Phoebe said, squeezing her sister's hand.  
"I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact you're my sister," Paige admitted. "Gift wrapped from another reality."  
Phoebe laughed, and hugged her sister as they walked. "You're not sorry, I hope."  
"God, no. Prue says we're a gift to her. And that's how I feel about both of you. But I just feel like my whole life got turned upside down. Not only do I have a family, but I have a coven. Almost everything I ever took for granted about what's real and what's not just got thrown out the window."  
"I promise you, Paige, being a witch is going to be one of the most amazing things that's ever happened to you."  
"About that... Pheeble, I need to tell you something," Paige said quietly. "But... not tonight."  
"Mmm. Sounds important."  
"Important enough I can only tell my sister."  
"You say when, I'll listen."  
"Thanks."  
They walked in companionable silence for a moment.  
"Do you suppose there's another me in your world?" Paige asked suddenly.  
"I don't know," Phoebe said honestly. "It's possible."  
"I hope so," Paige said thoughtfully.  
"Oh? Why's that?"  
"Well... you always worry about your other sisters being left alone. Maybe... if they found another me..." Paige hesitated. "They could still have a power of three in their world. And they wouldn't be so lonely any more. And... Prue and I could keep you," she finished shyly.  
"Thanks," Phoebe said, genuinely touched. "That's a really sweet thought." She grinned. "You're all right, Shorty."  
"I told you, stop calling me Shorty."  
"Uh-huh. But you realize, since it annoys you so much, I can't possibly ever call you anything else, ever again."  
"Yeah," Paige sighed in resignation, and then she grinned. "Pheeble."  
The sisters dissolved into peals of laughter, and finished their walk arm-in-arm.  
They arrived at the park, and each of the adults took turns doting over Patience on the swings and slides. A couple of other families with young children also showed up to enjoy the early afternoon tranquility, and Patience got to share her afternoon with a boy and girl close to her own age. Finally, exhausted and happy, with both darkness and the temperatures falling fast, the newly created family began to walk back to Prue's apartment.  
"You're awfully quiet," Phoebe said, walking arm in arm with her sister.  
"I've been thinking about my mom," Paige said. "Our mom," she corrected herself.  
"You're wondering why she gave you up? Why you weren't raised with the rest of us?"  
"Well... yeah."  
"I'm sure there was a reason, sweetie. A good reason. Mom would never have left you - she would never have left any of us - if she'd had any choice."  
"Have you ever met your dad?" Paige's voice was tightening with emotion.  
"Not here. I did meet him, once, in the world I came from," Phoebe admitted. "He... wasn't what I expected."  
"Was that a good thing, or a bad thing?"  
"I don't know," Phoebe sighed. "It's so hard to sort the real person from my expectations."  
"You wanted him to be different?"  
"I just wanted him to be around. After he met me and my sisters as adults, he just... turned around and left us. We weren't part of his life, and I guess he made a choice we never would be."  
"Phoebe, I'm sorry."  
"It's okay," she assured Paige, giving her a squeeze. "We can't change what's past. Not even as witches. We can only go from where we are."  
"But doesn't that bother you?" Paige asked, close to anguish.  
"Of course it does," Phoebe assured her. "Paige, we may never know who your dad was, or why my dad more or less abandoned us, or why mom didn't live long enough to tell us all about these things. But we can't change any of it."  
She stopped walking, holding Paige tightly to her, not just from the cold. "Prue and I love you," she said quietly, looking directly into her sister's eyes. "And now that we've found you, we're not letting you go. Not ever. I have a beautiful baby sister," Phoebe murmured. "Knowing that, how could I ever let you go?"  
Paige hugged Phoebe tightly, choking back sobs.  
Henry, seeing that the women had stopped, retraced his steps.  
"Everything all right?" he asked.  
"Everything's fine, Henry," Phoebe assured him. "Just giving my sister a Christmas hug."  
"Sweetie?"  
"I'm cherry, baby, I promise," Paige smiled at him tearfully.  
Henry, not entirely convinced, fell into step beside them.  
"Tell you guys what," Phoebe said, as they resumed walking, "Let's go home, have some pie and coffee, and then, little sister, Prue and I will sit you down, show you all the pictures we have of the family, and tell you everything we know about the Halliwells."  
"I'd like that," Paige nodded, still leaking tears. "I'd like that a lot."  
"Welcome to the family," Phoebe said, kissing her sister's cheek. "Merry Christmas, sweetie."

* * * 

That evening the sisters decided, since everyone had the rest of the year off, to spend some quality time together every day through First Night, and also to help Paige to learn how to properly cast spells and use her powers.  
Paige was so delighted with the idea she even agreed to arrive in time to help fix breakfast on Boxing Day, even though it meant not sleeping in.  
Promptly at eight, Paige arrived at Prue's apartment, and was enthusiastically greeted by Patience, who opened the door and promptly leapt into her auntie's arms. Carrying her niece into the kitchen, she found Prue and Phoebe already at work on breakfast.  
"Hey, guys," Paige greeted them, setting Patience down at one of the chairs at the kitchen table. "Not too late to help?"  
"Good morning," Prue's smile was so warm and radiant Paige felt like she was sunbathing in the greeting. "Yes, we've been waiting for you."  
"You get to make the scrambled eggs," Phoebe said, giving her sister a quick hug.  
"That sounds easy enough," Paige decided, shrugging herself out of her winter coat. "Where's Darryl?"  
"In the shower. He'll join us shortly," Prue said. "You'll find the eggs and milk in the fridge. There's a mixing bowl there on the counter, and a spoon."  
Paige hung up her coat, then returned to the kitchen. "Too bad Henry couldn't join us today," she said wistfully. "This should be fun."  
"He's off with his family today?" Phoebe asked.  
"Yeah, and I had to promise to spend at least one afternoon with his folks later this week." She sighed. "I'd rather spend all of the time with you guys."  
"Hey, these could be your future in-laws," Phoebe pointed out. "We understand. Go make nice when you have to."  
Paige shuddered. "Ooh. I don't even want to think about that yet."  
She pulled the carton of eggs from the fridge and picked up the wooden spoon.  
"Ah ah," Phoebe tutted.  
"What?" Paige asked, not understanding.  
"No hands," Phoebe admonished.  
"What do you mean, no hands? How am I supposed to scramble eggs without using my - ohh," Paige suddenly realized what was being asked.  
"You have the power to move objects with your mind," Prue said quietly. "And this will be a simple and harmless way for you to practice using your powers."  
"Guys, please," Paige objected. "I can barely lift anything, let alone control what I do with it."  
"Well, it's high time you learned," Phoebe declared.  
Paige made a face. "I can't do this," she protested.  
"Not yet," Prue agreed. "But you'll learn."  
"Oh, dear," Paige sighed. "This could be... uhh... interesting."  
"Better get cracking," Phoebe teased. "Muffins and fruit cups are almost ready."  
"Do it, Auntie Paige, do it!" Patience pleaded from the kitchen table.  
"You guys are gonna laugh at me, aren't you?"  
"Prue and Patience won't," Phoebe grinned. "But I promise I will."  
Paige gave her sister a playful whack on the arm. "You'll regret this, Pheeble," she declared.  
"Make me," Phoebe retorted with a mischievous grin.  
"Ooh!" Paige opened the egg carton. "I am going to leave eggshells in your portion on purpose."  
"Ah, ah, what do you think you're doing?" Phoebe demanded. "Close that carton. No using your hands for any part of this!"  
Paige stuck out her tongue at Phoebe, and Patience squealed with delight.  
"You realize this is gonna take me all day," Paige grumbled.  
"Why? Going somewhere?" Phoebe needled.  
"Phoebe," Prue remonstrated gently. "Pay her no mind, Paige. Take as much time as you need. This isn't a test. It's a chance to practice."  
Paige smiled gratefully at her eldest sister, and closed the carton again. "Okay," she agreed. "But... I am picking up the frypan with my hands, and I'm also turning the stove on and off with my hands. This exercise is for scrambling eggs only. No way I'm burning the building down just to practice magic."  
"Fair enough," Prue agreed.  
"Aww," Phoebe groaned with disappointment.  
Paige set the carton on the counter and stared at it fixedly.  
"Way to stare at those eggs, Shorty," Phoebe grinned.  
"Phoebe Halliwell, you leave your sister be," Prue barked. "Honestly. I think Patience shows more maturity sometimes."  
"Okay, okay," Phoebe relented with a grin, and returned her attention to cutting up strawberries for the fruit cups.  
Prue gave Paige a reassuring hug, then made a show of getting the table ready.  
Left without an audience, Paige felt more relaxed. She closed her eyes for a moment, concentrating, then opened them. She stared again at the egg carton, which steadfastly refused to move.  
After thinking for a moment, Paige lifted one hand and pointed at the carton with her index finger. The lid of the carton popped open.  
"Good," Prue nodded, smiling. She was watching Paige intently, although trying desperately not to show it. "Your focus is through your hands, not your eyes. It's all right, Paige. Use gestures if it helps. Just don't physically touch anything."  
"Okay." Paige took in a deep breath, and made a gentle scooping motion with her right hand. Obligingly, one of the eggs floated up out of the carton.  
"Wow," Paige breathed, astonished at her own ability.  
"Keep your concentration," Prue admonished gently.  
Paige returned her focus to the egg, still hovering uncertainly in the air. She made a slight gesture with her hand, trying to make the egg cross the counter over the mixing bowl. The egg shuddered but stayed where it was. Paige repeated the gesture more forcefully.  
The egg promptly exploded, splattering Paige's face and the front of her shirt with yolk.  
Phoebe and Patience burst into peals of helpless laughter.  
"Oh, yeah, ha ha," Paige fumed. "Really funny to see me with egg on my face. Real flipping hilarious."  
Prue handed her sister a clean towel that she had daubed in warm water. "It's all right, Paige," she assured her sister. "It takes practice. I promise, I didn't do any better when I first started."  
Paige wiped her face and began daubing carefully at her blouse. Prue glared first at Phoebe, then at her daughter, and they both suppressed their giggles.  
"When I was first learning how to move things, it was one disaster in the kitchen after another," Prue assured Paige, taking the towel and gently wiping the spots she'd missed, allowing Paige to regain her sense of self-possession. "In fact, I was so bad at it that Piper was on the verge of banishing me from the kitchen forever."  
"Really?" Paige quavered.  
"Really truly," Prue assured her. "If Gram's house was still standing, I promise you, I could still show you a chandelier with guacamole dip on it, and egg all over most of the cupboards." She grinned. "That's why we're starting with scrambled eggs," she added. "We're expecting you to break a few."  
Prue set the towel down. "There. Good as new. Ready to try again?"  
"Maybe I should have an apron," Paige suggested.  
"That's allowed," Prue agreed with equanimity. She rummaged in the pantry and took an apron off the hook and handed it to Paige, who accepted it gratefully.  
Paige glared at Phoebe, who relented from further teasing. "No more laughing, I promise," she declared with utter sincerity, holding up her hands in a gesture of pacification. "Patience and I are rooting for you, aren't we, Patience?"  
"You can do it, Auntie Paige!" Patience declared.  
"Come on, you threw a decent sized demon across the length of an alleyway," Phoebe pointed out. "You can kick the crap out of a dozen eggs."  
Paige returned her attention to the egg carton with newfound resolve. As before, she gestured at the carton, and another egg wobbled into the air.  
This time, Paige kept her right hand as if she were physically cradling the egg in her palm, then pointed to the mixing bowl with the index finger of her left hand. The egg wobbled, and then floated unsteadily until it was over the bowl.  
"How can I steady the bowl and crack the egg?" Paige asked.  
"Same way as you would with your hands," Prue assured her. "It takes a little getting used to, but you can do it."  
Concentrating, Paige lowered her right hand slightly, and the egg lowered itself until it made contact with the rim of the bowl.  
"You know how to crack an eggshell with your hands," Prue urged.  
"I really don't," Paige admitted. "I never cook."  
"Well, all you need is a gentle tap. Raise the egg up just a little bit, and bring it down quickly. You don't need a lot of force."  
Paige bit her lip as she concentrated. The egg wobbled on the rim of the bowl drunkenly, then raised in the air again.  
"Now, just bring the egg down fast, but don't push," Prue coached.  
Paige frowned for a moment, staring at the egg, and then turned her right hand palm down. The egg smacked against the rim of the bowl, and the shell cracked in two. Half the yolk spilled into the bowl, the rest onto the counter.  
"Not bad," Prue smiled approvingly. "Not bad at all."  
"Really?" Paige seemed bemused. "I'm still making a mess."  
"Paige, it took me three whole cartons of eggs before I got even part of one into the bowl. You managed to get halfway there on your second egg. You're doing great, trust me."  
"Come on, Paige, you can do it," Phoebe urged.  
Everyone nearly held their breath on Paige's third attempt. This time, the egg broke cleanly and the yolk and the white went into the bowl, along with two halves of the shell.  
Paige ruefully dug the two halves out with her finger. "Pardon me for this," she said. "I'm pretty sure you guys would like your eggs without shells."  
"Soon, you'll get to the point where you're not only breaking the eggs, you'll have the eggshells flying into the garbage can without even looking," Prue promised.  
"I think I'm a long way from that," Paige sighed.  
"You're closer than you think," Prue assured her.  
"Do more, Auntie Paige, do more!" Patience squealed with delight, obviously finding flying eggs to be a source of great amusement.  
Gamely, Paige set about cracking the remaining eggs, and for the most part, managed to get more egg than not into the bowl, only occasionally having to remove shell fragments.  
Darryl came into the kitchen as Paige was experimenting with running the wooden spoon through the eggs in the bowl.  
"Good morning," he greeted everyone. "Hey, Paige."  
The wooden spoon, hovering in mid-air, fell to the counter with a clatter.  
"Morning, Darryl," she grinned, almost ruefully. "Sorry. My sisters want me to practice my magical skills. The problem is, I have no cooking skills to offset my lack of magical skills."  
"Looks like you're getting on just fine to me," Darryl observed, pouring himself a cup of coffee.  
"She's doing great," Phoebe declared, having appointed herself cheerleader.  
"Yes, she is," Prue agreed, stopping long enough to give Darryl a quick peck on the cheek. She came around the counter and handed Paige a wet towel. "Okay, practice is over for now. Wipe up the counter, and I'll get these eggs ready in a jiffy."  
Paige smiled gratefully at her sister and began mopping up.  
"So, what's the plan for today?" Phoebe asked, as they settled in at the kitchen table.  
"Well, I thought if we could impose on Auntie Paige to babysit for a couple of hours, I would like for you and I to go inspect that magical barrier."  
"I can't come?" Paige was crestfallen.  
"Oh, we'll definitely all go together later, with the Power of Three," Prue promised. "But there's something I wanted to check out first. And... I want Phoebe with me, because if my suspicions are right, she's the only other person who could confirm them."  
Phoebe frowned quizzically. "Is there a problem with the barrier? It's not going to fall apart or anything, is it?"  
"No, no, nothing like that," Prue said hastily. "Anyway, we would be back in time for lunch, and then to reward Paige for sacrificing her morning... we could let her choose a spell she wants to cast."  
"Really?" Paige's face brightened.  
"Did you have something in mind?" Prue grinned.  
"Well, actually, yeah," Paige admitted. "I want to try... a glamour."  
"Ooh!" Phoebe's face lit up with delight. "Awesome idea!"  
"That's a good choice," Prue agreed. "Easy to set up, easy to reverse."  
Darryl grinned as he sipped his coffee.  
"I know what you're thinking, mister, and you can stop it right now," Prue chided playfully.  
"I was just thinking, you haven't done a glamour in a long time," Darryl answered. "Should be fun."  
"Uh-huh. And what movie star do you want me to look like?"  
"Whitney Houston?" Darryl asked hopefully.  
Prue burst out laughing. "Okay, that's a bit of a stretch," she allowed. "Frankly, I'd just settle for being me, without all the lumps and bumps and razor stubble."  
"Oh, just like you are every day then," Darryl deadpanned.  
Prue shot him a withering look, and then dissolved into a grin. "Charmer," she ruffed.  
"Seriously, guys, can I actually change my appearance?" Paige asked.  
"Well, it's just an illusion, Paige, you don't actually change."  
"Yeah, I know, but... everyone would see me differently, right?"  
"Yes..." Prue admitted.  
Phoebe frowned. "What are you thinking?"  
"I just thought... I'd like to look... different. Still me, but... sexier." She sighed. "I wanna be... tall," she confided finally. "I'm tired of being short. I want to be... statuesque," she declared. "Also... I really want to try being a redhead. I mean a real redhead, bright, flaming, fire engine red."  
"This wouldn't happen to be a present for Henry, would it?" Phoebe grinned.  
"Partly for him, partly for me," Paige admitted. "It's just... when I look at myself in the mirror, what I see is, my butt is too big and my boobs are too small and I have a weird looking face."  
"Well, first of all, none of that's true," Phoebe objected. "And second, I've seen how Henry looks at you. That's pure adoration you've got there. Plus a big heaping helping of lust."  
"I know, I know," Paige sighed. "He's great that way. When he looks at me, I can see that he just wants me, and I find myself feeling so grateful that he does. But let's face it, I'm just not a thrill-of-a-lifetime sex object."  
"Paige, if I can make an observation," Darryl said quietly, "Phoebe's right. I've seen how Henry looks at you. Trust me. You're already his thrill of a lifetime."  
"Yeah, but I kinda want to blow his mind. In a good way," Paige added hastily.  
She saw her sisters exchanging knowing glances. "That's okay, isn't it?" she asked pleadingly. "I mean, it's not against the rule of personal gain or anything, is it?"  
"No, it's not," Prue assured her. "But Paige, if you'll take the well meaning advice of your older sister, don't spring this as a surprise on Henry."  
"I can't?" Paige was clearly disappointed.  
"Well, it's not that you can't," Prue said carefully. "But based on my own experience, you'll have a much happier outcome if you tell Henry ahead of time what you're planning. Trust me, he'll still be blown away by the result."  
"Seems like that takes all the fun out of it," Paige sighed.  
"Sweetie, it's not like that," Phoebe said encouragingly. "It's just... with magic, you get all kinds of unplanned surprises anyway. If you're planning something magical, let Henry know. We promise, he'll be happy, you'll be happy."  
Paige thought that over. "Okay," she agreed finally. She turned to Phoebe. "So, what do you want to be?"  
Phoebe grinned wistfully. "Well, the last time I did a glamour with my other sisters, I went for a really sultry look. But it kind of backfired on me. I started a near-riot in a nightclub." She shook her head ruefully at the memory. "I guess I still have the same problem now I did then - I don't have anyone to try on a new look for."  
"You really haven't been looking for any kind of social life," Prue observed gently. "You've been here long enough. It's probably time to start."  
"I know," Phoebe nodded. "It's just... I'm so done with the casual sex thing -"  
"What? What was that?" Prue affected a moue of mock astonishment. "Who are you, and what have you done with my baby sister?" she demanded.  
"Oh, come on," Phoebe laughed. "I'm not that bad." She made a little grimace. "Or... maybe my other self was?"  
"A different boyfriend every week," Prue declared. "Sometimes two."  
Phoebe winced. "Ooh. Okay, I'm definitely not that bad," she decided. "Besides, I look at you guys, and I'm really kind of jealous," she admitted.  
"Jealous?" Paige frowned in puzzlement.  
"Yeah. Prue, Darryl, I always make fun of you guys, but... I see how happy you are together, and I see the same sort of thing with Paige and Henry, and I just think... I might... like that," she admitted haltingly. "Being coupled, I mean. Having a steady boyfriend."  
Prue gave a low whistle. "Wow. I never thought I'd see the day."  
"Oh, stop," Phoebe protested, laughing.  
"Henry and I are so ready to be your wingmen," Paige declared with utter seriousness. "We can have a whole line of potential boyfriends set up for you -"  
""What, not another cop?" Phoebe grinned. "No offense, Darryl."  
"None taken," Darryl chuckled.  
"Well, if you don't want a cop, we know all kinds of EMTs... maybe even a couple of hunky firemen," Paige suggested.  
Paige and Phoebe looked at each other with sudden inspiration, and then burst out in unison, "Firemen!" - and dissolved into peals of helpless laughter.

* * *

An hour later, Phoebe found herself in Prue's SUV, headed towards Golden Gate Park.  
"We really should have brought everyone," Phoebe said wistfully as she stared out the window. "It's a beautiful day."  
"This isn't a pleasure trip," Prue pointed out.  
"So, what's going on, Prue?" Phoebe asked. "Why couldn't Paige come with us?"  
"This is something that you and I have to do," Prue shrugged noncommittally. "That's all."  
"There's no danger, is there?"  
"None that I know of."  
"Come on, Prue, spill," Phoebe insisted. "That barrier has been in the back of your mind ever since we sealed it. And don't tell me that's not so, because I know you better than that."  
"It's just... I think I know what the barrier is now," Prue said carefully. "But I'm not sure I trust my own judgment."  
"And you trust mine more?"  
"As I said, you're the only other person who would be able to tell me if my suspicions are correct."  
"And why is that? And what are your suspicions?"  
Prue didn't immediately answer, as she pulled the car into a parking space. She shut off the engine and sat for a moment, clearly thinking, and then sighed heavily.  
"I guess it's lucky the edge of the barrier is so close to the park," she mused aloud. "Will make for a nice walk."  
"Prue," Phoebe remonstrated.  
"Sorry," Prue apologized. "Come on, Phoebe. We'll know soon enough if what I think is true or not."  
They left the car, and adjusted their winter coats. Although the air was cold, the sun was bright and the sky cloudless. Prue took more time than usual adjusting her hat. Phoebe watched her sister with concern, but made no further attempt to pry into her thoughts - she knew Prue well enough, in both worlds. She would talk when she was ready.  
As they began walking away from the museum towards one of the nature areas, Prue took Phoebe's arm, entwining it with her own.  
"Are you okay?" Phoebe asked quietly.  
Prue shook her head. "I don't think so, no," she admitted, but she stared resolutely ahead, not meeting Phoebe's gaze.  
"Are you worried something bad is going to happen?"  
"No. It's not that. The something bad has already happened. It's just - I might have to remember some things that I'd really rather not think about."  
"The day everyone died," Phoebe intuited.  
Prue gave Phoebe's arm a gentle squeeze. "You do know I love you, right?"  
"Prue, come on, you're starting to scare me. Really."  
"Sorry. I don't mean to. It's just... I need to put my emotional armor up for this, or I'll never be able to face it."  
"The barrier went up the day everyone died," Phoebe mused aloud. "You think we - I mean, the other sisters - had something to do with that?"  
"I'm sure of it," Prue admitted in all honesty. "But at the time, I wasn't paying attention, for obvious reasons. Even when we sealed the breach last month, we were more concerned about keeping the barrier from collapsing than what caused it. But now, I think I know."  
Prue drew up to a halt. "We should be pretty close now. Let me scan first, and then I'll let you see."  
Prue closed her eyes, concentrating, and Phoebe waited patiently.  
After a moment, Phoebe could sense her perceptions shifting - Prue was extending to her the gift of magical insight that she possessed.  
Only a few yards ahead of them, extending upwards and outwards as far as Phoebe could see, was the mystical barrier. In Prue's eyes, the barrier was translucent, glowing and crackling bluish-white, with tiny sparks flying off at irregular intervals.  
"Wow," Phoebe breathed.  
"It's really something, isn't it?" Prue said, opening her eyes.  
"You're not kidding."  
Phoebe watched as a young man, apparently oblivious to the barrier, walked right through it. He saw the two women, and startled by their presence, smiled politely at them and headed off in another direction.  
"It's amazing - hundreds, if not thousands, of people have been walking right through this thing for years, not even knowing it's here," Phoebe shook her head, still not quite believing it. "But it's massive."  
"It's more than that. Let's get closer."  
"Should we?" Phoebe asked. "I mean, it's not going to suck away our powers or anything, is it?"  
"I don't think so," Prue answered.  
The sisters advanced cautiously until the barrier only an arm's reach away.  
"Is it safe to be this close?" Phoebe shuddered.  
"It doesn't feel right, does it?" Prue noted her sister's instinctual revulsion.  
Hesitantly, Prue reached out and let her fingertips graze the surface of the barrier. Drawing in a sharp breath, she drew her hand back hastily.  
"It didn't hurt you, did it?" Phoebe asked with concern.  
Prue shook her head. "Try touching it."  
"Prue... do I have to?" Phoebe quavered.  
"It's all right, Phoebe," Prue assured her.  
Phoebe bit her lip. "You're sure it's safe?"  
Prue nodded solemnly.  
Phoebe let out a nervous sigh, then removed one of her winter gloves and very tentatively raised her hand until it barely grazed the surface of the barrier.  
"Yow!" she yelped. "Man, does that feel weird!"  
"Does it feel in any way familiar?" Prue asked.  
Phoebe frowned. "What do you mean?"  
"Do you know why nobody can see this barrier?"  
"No, why?"  
"Because it's not really here."  
"What?"  
"Touch it again," Prue instructed. "Don't leave your hand on it, but just touch it."  
Phoebe reluctantly did as she was told.  
"What does that feel like?" Prue pressed.  
"I don't know," Phoebe said helplessly. "I want to say it feels cold, but... it's not."  
Prue nodded. "You're not far off. This is a frozen surface. But it's not frozen in temperature."  
"I'm not following."  
"It's frozen. In time," Prue said with careful deliberation.  
"Frozen in -?" Phoebe's look went blank, not comprehending, then she blanched, realizing the import of Prue's words.  
"Oh, my God," she breathed. "Piper."  
"So you can sense it," Prue sighed with obvious relief.  
The sisters each held up their hands again, and just barely grazed the surface of the barrier.  
"That's Piper's energy. All of it," Prue said grimly. "Every bit of mystical force she could control is here."  
"But how? Why?" Phoebe asked.  
"I don't know."  
"She didn't do this deliberately... did she?"  
"I don't think so. I think... this barrier was created when she died."  
"How do you figure that?"  
"She was... fighting for her life when she died," Prue's voice grew thin and taut. "It's possible she created the barrier by accident in her death throes."  
Phoebe swallowed hard. "You said... she was fighting... me," she said.  
Prue winced as if from pain, and when her eyes opened, magical fire was flashing in them - the demonic flame that proceeded unleashing a bolt of fire.  
"Oh, boy," Phoebe breathed in alarm. "Come on, Prue, you know me. Nice Phoebe, good Phoebe."  
"It's all right, Phoebe, really," Prue grimaced, shutting her eyes and drawing in deep breaths. "I'm just - remembering some very painful things."  
"Oh, sweetie," Phoebe murmured, and hugged her sister tightly. "Hang on. It's nothing but a bad memory now."  
"No," Prue said brokenly. "It's not."  
She let Phoebe hug her a moment longer, and then sighed heavily.  
"You know I haven't told you a lot about what happened that day," Prue said quietly. "There's good reason. There's so much of this pain I've tried to spare you, because it isn't yours. But since we're going to have to deal with the consequences of what happened then, it's probably time I told you all I can remember about what happened that day."  
Phoebe thought that over. "I think it would be a good idea if you told both your sisters," she said somberly, and Prue nodded in agreement.  
"Phoebe... there is one other thing I should tell you," Prue said, her voice shaking slightly. "And only you."  
"You're going to tell me that you were the one who killed me," Phoebe said quietly. "I mean, her, the other Phoebe."  
Prue looked at her sister in surprise.  
"It's okay, Prue. I didn't get any sort of premonition about it. I didn't need to. You were so reluctant to talk about it, it was kind of obvious what happened."  
"Phoebe, I'm so sorry -" Prue started to say, but Phoebe put a finger to her lips, shushing her.  
"Hey," she said softly. "No baggage about our other sisters, remember?" She regarded her sister for a moment. "I can't even begin to know how horrible that must have been for you," Phoebe said finally. "But you owe me nothing, Prue. I'm not your other Phoebe. Whatever happened between you and her is not between us."  
"I know, but I still need to tell you I'm sorry."  
"Why?"  
"Because she's gone, and I have no one else to say this to," Prue said, silent tears spilling down her cheeks.  
"Then let me say something to you," Phoebe said solemnly. "I forgive you."  
"What?" Prue blinked back tears in surprise.  
"I forgive you, Prue. On behalf of your Phoebe, and every Phoebe - for any harm you've done, for any harm you think you've done, real or imagined - I forgive you all of it. You're my sister. I love you. Whatever torment you're putting yourself through over this, I'm giving you permission to let it all go."  
Prue burst into tears, and Phoebe took her grieving sister into her arms and held her tight. She held her until the sobs quieted, then finally released her, gently brushing her dark hair away from her tear-stained face. She reached into her coat pocket and drew out a packet of tissues and handed them to Prue.  
"Thanks." Prue took the tissues gratefully and daubed her eyes, then blew her nose.  
Impulsively, Phoebe leaned over and kissed Prue on her cheek. "To help speed the healing," she explained.  
Once Prue had collected herself, Phoebe looked back at the barrier.  
"This barrier is all that's left of Piper," Prue sighed, her grief still fresh. "The saddest part is, some how, we have to find a way to safely dismantle it."  
"Why?" Phoebe asked, not entirely understanding.  
"Because it's not supposed to be here," Prue said. "The world isn't as it should be, because of us. The world needs magic, both dark and light, to have balance. I'm partly responsible for this. I have to make it right."  
"Prue, this thing has been standing here for at least three years, and the world is still turning," Phoebe pointed out.  
"Is it?" Prue countered. "How many people have you met here, Phoebe, who don't seem like complete zombies to you?"  
"Point taken," Phoebe admitted. "But, Prue... even with the three of us... how are we going to fix... this?"  
"I don't know, Phoebe, I really don't," Prue shook her head. "But now that the power of three is restored, we have to try."  
"We don't have to do this right this moment, do we?"  
"No." Prue sighed. "This is going to take some thought. Whatever we do, we need to make sure we're not causing more harm than has already been caused."  
"I don't know, Prue, I kind of find myself siding with Paige on this one," Phoebe said reluctantly. "A world without demons isn't really a bad thing."  
"A world without angels is even worse," Prue countered.  
"Yeah, but if what Rex said is true, maybe that damage is permanent. Maybe there won't be any angels or demons ever again, no matter what we do."  
"Maybe. Maybe not. But sooner or later, this barrier will collapse. We can't just keep shoring it up, like putting a thumb into a dike. We need some sort of permanent solution."  
"Well, then, let's sit down with Paige, and we can talk about it. At least for the moment, the world's not going to blow up. Give yourself a day off, at least." Phoebe smiled knowingly at her sister.  
Prue gave Phoebe a hug out of gratitude.  
Phoebe gave her sister a grin. "We should probably think about heading back. Paige and Darryl will be getting worried."  
Prue slid her arm alongside Phoebe's, and they started to walk back towards the car arm in arm.  
"Phoebe? Thank you," Prue said quietly.  
"Any time."  
As they walked, Phoebe began to grin.  
"What?" Prue asked.  
"I don't know... what do you think about Paige being taller than either of us, with flame-red hair?"  
In spite of her recent grief, Prue burst out laughing. "I think if it makes her happy, let's help her do it."  
"How about you? Gonna go for Whitney Houston?"  
"No," Prue declared flatly, still laughing. "I wouldn't mind looking like myself at age twenty-seven, though. I like to flatter myself that I looked pretty good then."  
"Mmm. I think I'm going to make myself look like one of the film stars of the 40s."  
"Really? Anyone in particular?"  
"I haven't decided yet," Phoebe mused. "Ava Gardner or Gene Tierney would be the front-runners."  
"Good choices," Prue agreed.  
Phoebe's smile lingered, but her expression turned thoughtful.  
"Prue, some time ago, we said we were going to sit down and write out the Halliwell family history in the new Book of Shadows. I think this week might be a good time to do that."  
"I think that's a very good idea, Phoebe."  
"You can tell me and Paige everything we need to know about what's happened to our family in this reality, and I'll write it down, so all our children will know it, too."  
"Children?" Prue arched an eyebrow. "You mean you're adding children to your list, too? Along with the steady boyfriend?"  
"And what if I am?" Phoebe grinned. "Hey, it's probably gonna happen someday, right?" She gave Prue's hand a squeeze. "Maybe with that hunky, smoking hot fireman she's gonna set me up with."  
At that, they both laughed heartily.

* * * 

It was almost midnight, and a young, thin man with a nervous expression sat at the bottom of a dank stairwell. The catacomb before him was made of stone and the dampness made him shiver. A single brazier at the foot the stair was the only illumination. The cavern beyond was nothing but blackness.  
A courier in a long, flowing dark robe oozed out of the gloom.  
"He will see you now," the voice said lifelessly.  
The young man stood up and brushed himself off, more from anxiety than anything else.  
"Uh... which way do I..."  
A skeletal finger pointed into the blackness. The young man shuddered.  
"Right."  
He moved slowly into the darkness, which seemed to gather around him like water. He swallowed hard. Unable to see anything at all in front of him, he stopped and listened. The absence of noise was very much like the absence of light.  
Hesitantly, he glanced behind him. There was no trace of the stairwell or the flame. Nothing but darkness in any direction.  
"Speak," a voice rasped. The sound did not seem to come from a human larynx. It could have been chains on stone, or bones on shells.  
"Dread Lord, I have seen her," the young man stammered. "The Dark Charmed One. She has returned!"  
"Your wits are addled, boy. The Dark Charmed One is dead."  
"No, my Lord, by my life, she lives. I saw her."  
"You mean, you saw a woman who looked like her."  
"Lord, it was the Charmed One herself, I swear it. No two women could be so alike."  
"You would really have me believe the Dark Charmed One has resurrected herself from the dead?"  
"Lord, you yourself have said her powers dwarfed any magical being in this reality. What if she has restored herself? Should we not go to her, and profess our allegiance?"  
"Indeed we should do this. If this woman is who you say she is. But we must be certain. Give me your thoughts."  
"Lord?"  
"Your thoughts, your memories. I must have them. If what you say is true, then even Hell itself will shake to its foundation. I must be sure of what you speak."  
A gnarled claw reached out of the darkness. "Your thoughts. Now."  
The young man shuddered, as he realized what was meant by the request. "Dread Lord," he whimpered. "Spare me."  
The demon snorted with derision. "You come to me with tales of the Dark Charmed One, and beg to be spared? Do you not know with whom you have been granted audience?"  
The taloned hand reached out, and with an almost casual flick, sliced the young man's skull, right through the bone. The young man's body fell in a heap, and the skullcap fell off, revealing a fresh, bloodied brain.  
The demon hand reached down and scooped the brain from its cavity. Somewhere in the darkness, a maw opened and the entire brain was sucked inside. There was a sound of gratified chewing.  
"So." The voice turned thoughtful. "You spoke truthfully," It said to the corpse at its feet. "The image in your memories is clear and unmistakable. This woman can be none other than Phoebe Halliwell herself. Our Dread Queen has returned to us at last. The Gates of Hell can be opened once again."


End file.
